Help me win - Please vote for my remix

Hey all. I joined a remix context and nope to win a bunch of gear if I get 1st or 2nd place. Please hit the link below to go vote for me. I'd really appreciate it. You will need to sign up for a "fan" account to vote, but please take the time to. The original track was a not so crazy Crystal Method track. In listening briefly to the other entries, it sounds like mine is the only one that went the dnb route.
Here's the link:
www.fuzz.com/contest/rem...ools/gallery

Please vote ASAP. Voting closes at the end of September. If you let me know that you voted for me either on this thread or by PM, I'll arrange to get you a CD of my tracks. Just ask.
Thank you, and wish me luck.

Listening

Why don't we do it more?

I'm confused, uncomfortable and have nothing else permanent to write on. But why don't we listen anymore? To others; to ourselves? What is it? I had this all planned out but now it seems for naught. We only have us. Who is us to you? You have yourself, I hope, but what of me is anything to you?

The simple conundrum is this. Every thing that we hear is almost as powerful as every scent that we smell. Every viable and comprehensible thought expressed in words strikes a tone in us that inspires us. Whether that inspiratiion be enjoyable or not is uncircumstandtial. What is important is that we allow the statement to complete itself before retort. So many pointless arguments toward the same point; so many waisted breaths not taken again. Hear the words before you presume to understand, for you really have no idea. These thoughts that I depict to you mean far from the same to me as they may to them...more to you than they do to him...less to us than they did to her. We don't know. That's the point. We simply don't. We may never. What about that? What if we never understand? Would we get anywhere?

No!

Take the time. Hear it. It's inside and out. It's there if you allow it to be. We are what we make and we have a choice. We are identifiable by more than vocal symbols and we have a responsibility to present that. Do so with dignity. Rise up! But allow me to as well, humbly, for I must have a moment also. Even if it means less to you than it does to me. Especially if it means less to you than it does to me. Let me have my time. I give back.

Hear me like a child being told a story. I hear you so and wait for more.

Time and the ticking.

One second at a time it seems. Slow and deliberate, plodding if you will, is the run of things running out, short or just too long. I sit, fingers poised over the keys that click and strike and sound too little and far between. Without depth even, words come out like a boxers teeth from my knuckles. There's that familliar sting, the slight impression and then the scaring sets in as if to say, "You'll see me again soon."

Aren't we a bit old for this?

Do you know how it feels to be stuck in a tired, old routine? I do. It sucks tons to know that, no matter what you do, you will always come back to right here. This spot is here and will pull you back in to it every chance it gets and you have no control over it. Well, that's how I feel now. I was attacked last night. The unfortunate side of that is that it's not the first time, but it will be the last. It was the same person that always does it to me and for the same reason...drunken animocity that never disapears. It's been there forever and it won't change. I washed my hands , scrapes and bruises this day for the last time. I won't be acted upon violently ever again and that's just the way that it has to be. It makes me feel like a used up and dirty rag doll that some heartless child left along the side of the road to nowhere. Violent behavior is natural to humans, right? We love to hurt others, right? What's the joy in life if you can't cause pain to those that you feign love for? Here's a bit of kowledge that's easy to come by but hard to recall for everyone out there: if considering something gives you a bad feeling; if negative and routine actions find you, if you knew that they would come and you did nothing to prevent them happening, you're at fault and responsible for making the change. This is my fault. I was attacked because of who I am and what I do. I brought this upon myself by not preventing it and now I feel like dirt or much worse. Funny thing is, as I write this, I am being threatend. Apparently there is a broken bone involved and it's my fault. If you know me, you know that I am not a violent person. I don't go looking for fights and I most often walk away from violent situations. This time, I didn't. I don't recall much of what happened as it all blurred out into a violent, alcohol ridden blur. What I do remember is bing thrown into bushes, sat upon, punched, struggling for what felt like my life, trying to leave the situation stating that it was a great way to get arrested, being persued, attacked again and finally leaving my attacker on the ground asking for help. Aksing me to come back and help him after he's tried to hurt me numerous times. I didn't trust it. I took my opportunity to leave when I could and I left him there, hurting in a different way than I do. He went to the hospital, I went home. Now, I really feel like trash. I let someone tear me down. I let them take the feet that I stand on out from under me. I let them change me. I let them ruin me. I let them hurt me and in turn hurt them more than I could have realized. I'm scared for myself. I'm scared for him. I don't know what will happen, but that's what's happened so far. I don't feel responsible for the injury because that's what happens when people fight, but I hate that it's happened and I apologize for being brought to that.

CONCERNED ABOUT YOUR DIET?

For those of you who watch what you eat, here's the final word on nutrition and health. It's a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies.

1. The Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

3. The Chinese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

4. The Italians drink a lot of red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

5. The Germans drink a lot of beers and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

CONCLUSION

Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you.

Wishlist of finally attainable items!

I'm so happy that I can't wait to spend this money gift.

-Mac Quad G5 desktop w/ a 23" hi-def cinema flatscrean.
-desk for that above
-new accoustic/electric guitar (prolly a Taylor or Martin)
-new guitar amp
-new effects for that above
-PA/monitor setup for me and WoM

That is all for now. If anyone knows of anyone else getting rid of something along these lines or has a hookup for me, I'd be much obliged. Suggestions are welcome on these purchases as well...let me know what you think about what if you have thoughts on it. $10,000...poooph...begone.

Oh yeah...and for Sparkle...pay my damn debts off finally.

Wow...really...much wow!!!

I won't say how much, but my father, with whom I speak rarely, just dropped off a check to me at work. It's a more than sizeable amount, let's leave it at that. I don't know what to say really...total shock and awe is about it. I can hardly believe that it happend yet and probably won't until I see a bank receipt in my name with all the zeros after it (there are 3...it's not that big). I'm not the paid for kind of guy. I don't get handouts much less take to them very well. I've worked hard for years to barely break even, and now I feel like it's paid off and also that I need to work harder for what I have. I'm really grateful, but confused as all hell. Who wants to paryty? Drinks on me.

New Tribe

I'm sure that you've all seen a link somewhere already, but I've started a new tribe dedicated to discussions about the underground scene worldwide and how to better our efforts and bring the love of music and events to the people. Hope that you can join us. We're one day old and have a bunch of heads in there already, even a couple that I don't know. Thanks for supporting the underground movement over the years. "The Music Needs You."
tribes.tribe.net/uss

Dragged down...

...tired and all sorts of unfriendly. That's me lately...to a point. Okay, I admit that I am always at least slightly friendly, but the rest stands strong as my discomfort. At least I figured it out this time.

"What the hell is dragged down," you might ask? Figure it like this: I'm a balloon and the little kid with me tied around it's wrist is the earth with all of its pain and suffering balled up in a tight li'l, knuckel white fist, and they just keep jerking the wrist around so that I get no grace, no love and no care in my chained flight. I want out. I want up. I want to pop from the pressure within as soon as I can make it to my highest reach. I want to be watched in my ascent with bewilderment as to how I escaped (as if there were a question...you shouldn't have been playing with my knot, kid), to be missed briefly and forgotten when the new one comes along. Cut the cord, I'm over your head and off. Depression is rooted in the ground, but shallow and frail. Happiness is the leaf that falls from the branch but never makes the ground.